Who wisely reades thy lines may well be bolde,
Pythagoras his Paradoxe to holde,
That dead mens soules (for which men fondly mourne)
Are not extinct, but after death returne
To other bodies, and may plainely see
Old Geffry Chaucers soule reviu’d in thee.
Such heavenly Raptures, sentences divine
No soule could vtter, but or his or thine;
If not his soule (which now to heaven is gone)
Yet is his verse reviu’d in thee (his Sonne.)
So long as the worlds eye his light shall giue,
So long shall both you (Divine Poets) liue.
What ever Critick at thy verses snarles,
He shall be daunted by the name of Charles.
Adieu (Deare friend) let this thy glory be,
The sacred muse long dead, now liues in thee.
And well may I my learned friend thus greete,
In whom Prudentius and Sedulius meete.
More Poetry from Charles Fitzgeffrey:
Readers Who Like This Poem Also Like:Based on Topics: Light Poems, Death & Dying Poems, Heaven Poems, Name Poems
Based on Keywords: mourne, liue, mens, sonne, returne, soules, pythagoras, bolde, giue, holde, daunted